Roy slowly combed through the kitchen cabinets, noting their contents. He chuckled as he spotted a few boxes of instant soup, the same ones Jordan brought to the hospital for him.

The cupboards weren’t full; containing a random assortment of cups and mugs (quite a few he recognized from various diners and pubs from around town), stacks of plastic take-away tupperware, a very nice shelf of untouched glassware, one cabinet dedicated to general medicines and bandages, and the last one containing non-perishable food, mostly unopened.

Moving to the floor cabinets, he found cleaning products, a very basic collection of pots and pans (four moderately sized ones to be exact, of which only one had any distinguishable stains of use), a messy pile of plastic and paper bags (desperately needed sorting) and piles of dishes, plates and bowls. The drawers weren’t any more stacked. The topmost contained a tiny amount of cutlery mixed up with probably the utensils she used the most (a spatula, a wooden ladle and a kitchen knife), the next was more utensils, the third strangely had repair tools (odd for them to be so close to eating utensils), the fourth seemingly a random collection of everything (bulbs, little pieces of wires, rolls of tape, loose screws and nails, glue tubes, etc) and the last a crazy amount of food menus and leaflets which exploded out upon opening.

Humming to himself, Roy packed up the leaflets back into the drawer and decided to move on to her fridge. He frowned at seeing the whole bottom of the fridge containing assortments of beer and imagined Jordan picking a can up for her dad every evening. The upper shelves were almost empty; a few jars of expired spreads, a quarter of a loaf of bread, a handful of eggs, and a very nice cut of meat pie neatly cling-wrapped onto a ceramic plate, probably sent over by Kodie from his mom. The pie stood out in the whole fridge, being the most ‘together’ thing in the whole kitchen. He felt comforted, knowing that some family still looked out for Jordan, but also a little troubled that she was now really alone when the door closed.

Straightening himself, he opened the freezer and almost burst out laughing. The large assortment of frozen, microwavable lasagna stacked very neatly took up 3/4 of the tiny cold box. An open box of ice lollies sat squished next to the ice cube trays. From his little investigation, he figured that the only other room she spent any considerable time in besides her bedroom was this little narrow kitchen. She probably sat her little self in that chair of the two-seater dining table waiting for her 8-minute lasagna to heat up, then retreating back to her room with the hot plate. Roy reckoned he could touch the counter top with his toes, sat down in that red chair. But then again, he was a lanky.

Collecting a few ingredients, he decided to make a tea-time snack for the both of them. After an unsuccessful hunt for a whisk, Roy settled on a fork and began to beat the handful of eggs in a bowl he rinsed out. Rock music blared out from his phone.

Jordan appeared at the kitchen doorway, hair damp from a bath. Despite that however, it still retained that shocking pink quality.

“Making yourself right at home already?” she commented.

“Figured you could use a bite. It’s been a long day,” Roy smiled back.

Jordan shrugged and slid into the red dining chair. Her pale elbows rested on the yellow dining table, and she watched him try to on the gas stove. He understood that the spark plug no longer worked after trying it a few times and whipped out his trusty lighter. He lightly tossed the bread in the egg mix and began frying. A wonderful smell began filling the corridor of a kitchen.

“What are you making?” Jordan asked, getting up and leaning against the counter.

“French toast,” he replied, smiling slightly. He looked up briefly, and managed to see her normally mundane face brighten up a little at the sight of the bread cooking. His smile broadened.

“Oh, yeah. D’you want some tea? Coffee?” she asked suddenly, remembering hostess etiquette.

Roy thought for a bit. “Tea would be nice,” he replied.

“What mug d’you want?” she asked, opening the cabinet full of them.

“Choose one for me,” he grinned. Jordan produced a large mug in the shape of a pig and another a fat owl. No doubt Oliver’s picking. She then went to the far side, to the dry food cabinet and clambered onto the counter. Roy watched, eyes wide at her doing so without any hesitation whatsoever. She pulled out a box of yellow labels and extracted two bags. Easing off the counter, she opened the fridge and picked up a milk carton.

“Shoot, expired,” she remarked.

“Straight tea’s okay,” he answered. Jordan placed the carton within sight, deciding to dispose of it later. She prepped the tea quickly and silently, placing the pig opposite her owl on the dining table. Roy finished the batch of toast and placed the nice, steaming pile in the middle of the small table. Jordan eagerly stuck her hand out, but the toast was still much too hot. Waiting for them and the tea to cool down, a conversation struck up.

“So, uh, how long’s your dad gonna be in rehab?” Roy asked.

“The court said six months, but I’m hoping a year if he’s serious about it,” she replied, staring at a spot on the wall.

“What’s gonna happen to ya’ in the meantime?”

“Ollie’s looking into it. He’s hoping maybe Charles or Eze’s dad or maybe Kodie’s mom can get custody; keeps me around.”

“How bout I sign custody?”

Jordan’s attention drifted to him, and a smile formed at the corners of her face. “You’re a bit young for guardianship.”

“I got earning wage. I’m legal. You, trust, me…?” he chuckled.

Jordan smiled, actually smiled. Her mouth curved crookedly, as if it didn’t do that very often.

“See what happens,” she shrugged, but the smile stayed.

Roy stabbed a fork into the topmost slice of bread and handed it to her. “What’s the house like now?” he asked.

Gaze distant, she gravitated her nose into the air like a cat unconsciously.

“It’s quiet. I mean, it’s always been quiet; but now it’s kinda… still. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing,” she answered wistfully.


Writer’s note: SHIT! still figuring out this whole wordpress thingy so all previous comments have been deleted by aksimet without me even getting to view them, including the ones for this post 😦 sorry for that! I THINK I’ve made it so that I can manually do that now. for those who have commented before, i am so sorry! and i do wish i could’ve gotten to read your comments good or bad 😦

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